


The Love Coach

by Melusine11



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: 'Love Coach' Kylo Ren, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Awkward Flirting, Awkward Sexual Situations, Background Relationships, Bad Advice, Banter, Buzzfeed Employee Rey, Crack Treated Seriously, F/M, Fluff and Crack, Other Additional Tags to Be Added
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-16
Updated: 2019-08-16
Packaged: 2020-09-02 11:09:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,796
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20274931
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Melusine11/pseuds/Melusine11
Summary: ‘DOWN ON YOUR LUCK IN LOVE?LOOKING FOR YOUR SOULMATE?A FOREVER HOME FOR YOUR HEART?’ORinspired by this prompt from @ficReylo on twitter: perpetually single buzzfeed employee Rey hires professional "love coach" Kylo Ren to help her find a boyfriend





	The Love Coach

**Author's Note:**

> Many thanks to @ficReylo for posting the prompt, [Leoba ](https://archiveofourown.org/users/leoba/pseuds/leoba)for being the best kind of enabler, and [SpaceWaffleHouseTM](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SpaceWaffleHouseTM/pseuds/SpaceWaffleHouseTM) for the beta read.

Rey leans back in her chair, feet propped up on the crossbeam of the large desk she splits with Rose. The chatter around the office is quiet for a Friday. Normally weekend plans were being discussed over the sound of keyboards clacking, the low thrum of the air conditioning fans and the Muzak they had started multiple petitions to get rid of with no results other than a battle with the volume knob in the server closet down the hall.

Everyone is quietly productive today, even Rose is hunched over, frantically typing up a story. Not Rey though, she was casually looking over notes from her editor on her article about soy milk vs oat milk while thinking about the last time she had a date.

“Wasn’t it that Sean guy?” Rose pipes up, and Rey curses her habit of muttering out loud, albeit very quietly, while thinking through a problem. Rose also has ridiculous hearing, so she shouldn’t be surprised, but she sighs. 

“Can’t be, that was back before thanksgiving.” Rey puts her feet down and wheels to the left to be able to chat better with Rose.

“Well, you never said anything about anyone else.”

“But that was so long ago.”

“Time is fake my friend.” Rey huffs and rolls back in front of her screen. “You know,” Rose starts after a few minutes of quiet working. “Finn, Poe and I would be happy to take you out, show you a good time.”

“Rose,” Rey starts, “I love you all, but no, thank you.”

“Suit yourself. But if you ever change your mind, the boys like it when they’re watched.”

“Fuck off,” Rey snorts, Rose leans far enough around her monitor to waggle her eyebrows dramatically. “We can do drinks, but no funny business, like that one time you three disappeared into the bathroom.”

Rose’s face brightens. “Oh yeah! That was a fun night! Don’t pout, you were talking to that cute guy.”

“He was _married_.” Rey rolls her eyes, “started crying when he moved in to kiss me. Idiot.”

“Well, if we can’t keep our hands to ourselves, we’ll just bring you with us. You might _like_ it. If you give it a chance.”

“Rose. I just - I don’t think that’s for me, but I will keep your generous offer in mind.”

She makes final edits and posts her article, then works through her inbox before end of day. Rose invites her out, but she declines, determined to spend the evening with a box of takeout while perusing some date options.

Three egg rolls, a small box of lo mein, and well into her sweet and sour chicken she’s gotten five unsolicited dick pics on tinder and no one caught her interest on bumble. She tosses her phone down next to her on her threadbare couch with a sigh, regretting turning Rose down for drinks. At least if she had gone out she would get a ‘hello’ for being hit with an underwhelming image.

“There’s a story here,” she mutters, glancing back at her phone, poking idly at her dinner with chopsticks.

By Sunday afternoon, she's not sure there is a story that hasn’t already been done, or been a long series of threaded tweets about ridiculous things seen on dating apps. Her apartment is too small for pacing, so she quickly grabs her sneakers and running belt then heads out the door.

She runs her usual route and swings by her favorite bodega on her way home for a Gatorade and a sandwich for when she gets back to her cozy loft. Out on the sidewalk she twists the cap open and takes a long drink. Her eyes catch on the window as she lowers the bottle. Stepping closer she peers at the odd advert. It’s probably the cheesiest thing she’s ever seen, but she heads back inside.

“Hey, Maz? Do you mind if I take this?” Rey asks, pointing at the add on lavender paper taped to the glass.

“Pah- no. Been there for weeks now. It’s all yours. If you need a date though, Rey, I might know a guy.”

“Ah, no! No, this is a work idea.” She folds it in half and tucks it into the bag with her sandwich. “I’ll keep you posted though. Thanks to much, Maz!” She’s out the door in a flash, Maz shouting her ‘goodbyes’ as the bell over the door jingles as it closes.

Back home she forces herself to shower of the sweat and stink of the city before settling back down on her couch in a too large sweatshirt and red pair of boy shorts to read the ad.

It’s one of the most horrifically written things she’s ever read, but it caught her eye for a reason. It’s a mixture of comic sans and papyrus font and really she should burn the thing, or offer to work for them. She’s confident they would get more business if people didn’t have to read this eyesore.

‘DOWN ON YOUR LUCK IN LOVE? 

LOOKING FOR YOUR SOULMATE? 

A FOREVER HOME FOR YOUR HEART?’

The block of words is broken up here by a grainy graphic of interlocking hearts and she snorts. It’s awful.

‘Dopheld Mitaka, dedicated love and relationship coach is ready to help. With over five years of experience, and numerous happy couples brought together, he’s ready to help you find intimacy and love in a lasting, fully engaged relationship.’

“Gross,” Rey mutters, finally taking a bite of her sandwich.

‘For inquiries or scheduling a coaching appointment, please email _dopheld.mitaka@thelovecoach.net | kylo.ren@thelovecoach.net _Or call 285-555-1234.’

There’s a low quality black and white picture in the bottom right hand corner. Rey squints at it, trying to make the blob take shape. But it stays a human shaped grey blob with the small font below it indicating it’s the love doctor himself.

Tossing the paper onto her steamer trunk refurbished into a coffee table she leans back and slowly finishes her dinner. It’s a ridiculous idea, probably terrible, but worth the pitch at the meeting tomorrow. She picks up her trash, cleans up after herself, and then picks up the paper, folding it carefully back up and tucking it into her purse. 

Her brain and fingers itch later in bed, wanting desperately to look love coaches up, to look up this Dopheld Mitaka, but if she gets the go-ahead, it’s all billable. She could be getting paid to look this stuff up. Tomorrow night, if she gets told ‘no’ she will look it all up, but for now, she’s going to hold out hope.

* * *

It’s not often Kylo Ren questions his life choices, or how he ended up here, but today is one of those days. 

What had started as a joke between two college roommates was now a lucrative business with minimal hours. He ran most of the behind the scenes stuff, while Mitaka was the face of the business. They were each suited to their tasks, Kylo rarely had to talk to people face to face, which was great, he knew he could be a bit acerbic and unpleasant to get along with, so handling emails and site upkeep and the stray phone call from time to time was not a big deal. Mitaka was always out there, interacting with sad people who couldn’t get dates, or keep them, or _something_. Everyone had a different sad story. Mitaka cared. Kylo wasn’t obligated to.

Now though, his hands are shaking. They make enough, New York City is overwhelmed with people willing to fork out cash for Mitaka’s guidance in love, but _this._ This could really make them rise above the rabble. Assuming this wasn’t spam or a phishing attempt.

A quick search of her name pulls up multiple articles on buzzfeed she has written, from ‘What Appetizer Are You’ quizzes to ‘I tried and ranked these ten terrifying looking sex toys so you don’t have to’. There’s a small picture next to her name at the top of every article and she’s cute, looks like the sort that shouldn’t need a coach, but what does he know. Maybe she’s fine, and is just working an angle. Kylo doesn’t care. He flags her email as important and forwards it to Mitaka to review.

Mitaka barrels into his small office not even five minutes later, looking frazzled. “We can’t.”

“What do you mean, ‘we can’t’?” Kylo asks with a frown.

“I mean, my annual retreat is coming up in a month and I’m already stretched thin with the client load as it is,” the false patience in his explanation is clear as day, but Kylo still tries to press the issue.

“Maybe one of them will find the love of their life on a date tonight, and then look at that, free space.”

Mitaka pinches the bridge of his nose and exhales. “You know that’s not how this works.”

“Yeah, but this is a big deal,” Kylo argues, crossing his arms across his chest.

“To you, maybe! I’m perfectly happy with how things are right now. I don’t know that I really want the exposure.”

Kylo chews at his lower lip, mind working to formulate some kind of plan. “What if,” he starts, “what if we don’t take on another client, but at least do an interview.”

There’s a pause and then Mitaka sighs. “What if she really wants the coaching experience?”

“I’ll do it.”

“Kylo, you can’t you aren’t certified for shit.”

“Fuck off, I don’t need to be certified, how many meetings have I sat through with you? I can do it.” He shrugs, “besides, that’s only if she wants the coach.”

Mitaka wilts in the doorway. “Just, send her the standard form to fill out. I’m heading out to a meeting in fifteen, but I’m sending you a list of things I want on record from her before we commit to this. If this goes to shit, do _not_ involve my name.”

“You’re gonna let me do it?” Kylo perks up.

“On the condition that you don’t act like your usual idiot self.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Says the guy who met a girl for coffee, got there first, got his own order instead of _waiting_, didn’t even offer to get her anything, and then left as soon as you finished your drink, not even five minutes after she sat down.”

“Yeah, yeah, okay, let me fuck up my own life, I will be professional.”

“It hurts my soul when I hear the shit you do on dates. We work together, if I can’t help you, what hope do I really have of helping our clients?”

“Go cry to Phasma about it, Mitaka, I’m gonna email her back - so get me that list, pronto.”


End file.
